


summer

by thisisnotwhatihadplanned



Series: who I am today (always) [2]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Autism, Early Days, Fluff, Hotels, M/M, Regional At Best Era, Slow Burn, Van Days, coming of age but they're twenty, mentions of suicidal thoughts (not graphic), rab era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 12:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19852729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisnotwhatihadplanned/pseuds/thisisnotwhatihadplanned
Summary: It's Tyler's first tour. It's Josh's first tour with Tyler.





	1. June

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! If you've already read this fic, the first chapter will sound familiar. I decided to take the fic down, edit it, and write more. Thank you for reading!

"We're playing in Indiana, Wisconsin, Illinois, and Michigan. We'll be back to play Ichthus festival. It's like the B stage of the B stage but we're there." Tyler took a breath. "And we're playing the same set. It would work smoother if we put anathema in front of guns for hands, but Ben says that it's too tricky to set up without a long transition, and" Tyler looks down. "Nevermind." 

Kelly Joseph sits with her oldest son at the kitchen table. Tyler is going on tour in a week, and Kelly is worried. She feels a little guilty at this, that she can't just be excited for her son, but four states in three weeks?

Tyler is an adult. But she looks at him and sees her baby; baby fat still clings to his cheeks and he has a pimple on his forehead. If it wasn't for the uneven stubble growing on his face he'd look fifteen. He sits there, fingers tracing the veins in their wooden table, just like he did when he was little. 

"No, no, it sounds good, Tyler. I don't know much about the whole concert thing, but I know you're going to make it work." 

"Thank you." 

"Just promise you'll call me once a week." She knows he will. Her heart hurt. She'd never gone this long without seeing her oldest, not even while he was in college. 

"And Tyler? People don't always mean what they say. They aren't honest. Just, please, stick with Josh."

Kelly knew Tyler wouldn't want her saying that. But Tyler was not a large man. And his unwavering honesty had its downfalls. Namely, he naturally assumed everyone else was the same way.

"I know Mom. I'm not stupid."

"I wasn't saying that and you know it. Also, please call Zach before you leave, I know he'll miss saying goodbye."

Tyler nodded.

Kelly tried to look into his eyes. They were always so expressive. They hadn't changed since he was a baby. She used this trick when he was little, when communication was nearly impossible for him, when tears were frequent. It helped her glimpse into her son's world. She wanted to figure out what was so fascinating about the ceiling fan, why he would look and look; why toothpaste was torturous.

Right now his eyes shone.

He was excited. About the music, about spending every day with Josh, about performing. He could create a world on stage, picking the most vulnerable parts of his mind and heart apart in front of a hundred other broken people.

He was no longer separated from everyone when he was on stage. People connected with him. Apparently he was charming during performances (Josh enlightened him).

Every jeer, every lonely day -there were many-, every eye roll ripped into him. The stage healed him. He was looked at because he wanted to be. And he had Josh.

However, ecitement and fear felt the same to him, and it wasn't exactly pleasant. His racing heart and burning face urged him to leave, to go somewhere to process all of this. 

Tyler stood up.

"I'm going to my room." He was also here to get some clothes for tour. The stairs creaked as he went up the steps. He was greeted by the familiar chips in their painted wall, the pattern of the wood floor. He'd seen it since he was little. His face wasn't red anymore. He flipped on the bedroom light. 

Zach had kept the room unchanged, partially out of kindness, but also because he lived in a dorm most of the year. So Tyler's bed was still set up, basketball trophies sitting on the shelf above his headboard.

He could imagine all the past Tylers in this space. Seven year old tyler squeezing under the bed, falling asleep and giving his parents a scare. Later, they would stop to look there before calling for him. Ten year old Tyler reading Zach his bedtime story (a book of basketball players' stats, but close enough). Fourteen year old Tyler sitting in the closet in his underwear because real school was far too much all the time and this was the only way to feel right again. Seventeen year old Tyler at night, biting his lip and doing something that would make his mother cry, but he had to since he hated himself. He shook those thoughts away (literally) and began packing.

A few pairs of shoes and shirts later, Tyler was saying goodbye to his mom. He'd call her again before tour, since he called every Tuesday, but this was the last time they'd see each other in person.

"Hugs?" She had to ask, it was worth a try.

Not today. "No thank you."

Kelly giggled. He was definitely her Tyler, always polite.

"Okay, love you Ty, drive safe."

"Love you too Mom."

He put his box into the back seat, then got in the car.

"Say hey to Josh for me!"

"Okay Mom."

That night he stayed on the porch as the sun set and the air changed. There was a breeze and Tyler closed his eyes and laid back into the grass. He picked at it, before deciding to leave it alone. He didn't want to kill the grass.

A year ago, he wouldn't have done this. He wouldn't have just sat, let his body do what it wanted. Tyler had killed himself. Not literally, but that is what it felt like. He hated himself so much that he forgot who he was. There was too much shame for Tyler to exist. 

But seven and ten and twelve year old Tyler fought back. Through memories Tyler was able to save himself. He remembered how good the night air was. How he scrubbed his bare feet through the grass and hummed. How he rocked and felt the earth moving with him. A million other tiny moments he made his home from. 

He never knew what autistic meant as a child. He knew it was bad, so it had to be whispered. It made him go to therapy twice a week and none of the kids wanted to talk to him unless he had a basketball in his hands. Unless he had something to give them, something to 'make up' for this word that had a thousand faces and no concrete meaning to stand on. 

Tyler knew now that half the 'traits' of autism were simply coping mechanisms for the other half. His body knew what his brain needed, most of the time. Sometimes he needed help. He knew that shame and loneliness were there too. But right now things felt good. 

|-/

The house always smelled different when the air conditioner wasn't working. More like wood. Also stinkier, since four men were sweating their guts out in the living room. But they were having a pretty good time, even if their backs were stuck to the leather couch. 

Josh brought sushi from his second job. It was the good stuff, real crab and fresh fish. They were leaving Friday, so it was sort of a celebratory lunch. Probably the last good food they'd get for three weeks. 

He worked two jobs now. Guitar Center was fun, but he was chipping in for gas and hotel money, and the van, and equipment, and food on the road. Guitar center paid him barely above minimum wage. In short, they were all broke.

Currently, all five guys were sprawled on the couch, in fromt of the tv, and more importantly, the fan. Their AC had broken. 

There wasn't anything good on, according to everyone but Mark. Trashy reality tv was his favorite. Michael and Nick kept talking over Khloe and Kim Kardashian, who were promptly shushed by Mark. This caused Tyler and Josh to giggle, and the cycle started again.

Josh looked at Tyler, as he so often did. He looked good today. His cheeks were flushed a rosy pink from the heat, his hair stuck out in different directions. Josh found Tyler hard to read. But he supposed he was happy, his odd little laugh frequent. 

Josh soaked in these details, along with other things he didn't want to forget. Like the easy conversation in the background, Mark's shushing, the sushi in front of Tyler untouched. Tyler.

He couldn't help his crush. But he could shove it down a little. Not that Tyler would really notice anyway. Josh felt bad for thinking it. But it was true. For someone so intense, so observant, he was blind with that kind of stuff.

So he turned back to the tv. One of the girl's boyfriends was chewing them out. Mark turned the volume down. 

"You wanna go outside?"

Josh looked at Tyler, who was shifting in his seat. 

"Sure." They unstuck themselves from the couch and walked towards the porch. 

The screen door slammed behind Josh as he made his way out. A breeze was blowing, drying the sweat on his torso. It was cooler out here.

He looked at Tyler, who was looking everywhere but Josh. Josh learned early on that this was not sheepish behavior for Tyler, but natural, easier for him. 

"Six days 'till we leave."

"Yeah." Josh paused, then ventured on. "Uh, are you gonna be okay for the tour? I'm mean- Uh, sorry- I didn't mean it mean I just, well, you have a hard time in Walmart."

Josh had to ask. 

Tyler grinned. He appreciated Josh's (usual) straightforwardness. He just said what he thought. That's how Tyler knew he was genuinely kind.

"Yes, Josh. I have ways of coping. And it wasn't mean. Thank you for thinking of me."

Josh let out a breath.

"Good, just, almost a whole month in a van would bother anyone, you know?"

Tyler nodded. That had kept him up at night. Josh and the guys were going to see him, know him when he was tired, and stressed, and too exhausted for a facade. He hoped he'd have friends in three weeks. But that was nothing new to him. He looked at his wrist. 

"Have you ever wanted a tattoo?" Tyler's words startled Josh back into focus.

"Yeah, totally. Why?"

"I don't know, I've never heard of anyone getting tattooed on stage before. It would be sick, man."

"Really sick," Josh agreed.

"What would you get? Like, in general, not just on stage." Josh wanted to know.

Tyler already had a tattoo on his right bicep. He got it right after he turned eighteen; it was the roman numeral reference for a bible verse that was important to him. It talked about rough times. It also talked about strength. Josh thought it fit him perfectly.

"I want to get a wristband right here." Tyler said, gesturing to his rubber band- clad wrist. Josh didn't need him to explain. "And maybe some more armbands. Just black."

Tyler was silent then, so Josh continued the conversation for him.

"I want a tree. Like a whole sleeve, full of color. Kind of like a painting. I think it'd be really cool."

"I think it would fit you, Josh."

"Maybe I'll get Mark's face on my pec."

Tyler laughed.

"And I'll get Michael's. Best friend tattoos."

Best friends. Tyler hoped they were there. He didn't know. But Josh merely smiled at him and gestured back to the door. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent in Tyler's basement recording bass tracks and laughing at jokes that are only funny in a heat induced delirium. 

|-/

Epic Sushi and Hibachi House was a popular hole in the wall place in the strip mall that Josh and Tyler would climb.

Josh cleaned tables weekday nights. It was a busy job, and it paid well. He wasn't being paid during the tour but his boss had guaranteed him a job when he got back. That was all he could ask for.

Josh slid into his car and untucked his shirt, unpinning his name tag too. He sped off, eager to get home. It was already eleven at night and he still had to pack. 

He started a Death Cab cd and backed out of the parking lot. Josh loved to drive. It was the second best place to listen to music (besides behind his drum kit). He was speeding. He would slow down, forget about it and speed up again. It was eleven at night and he felt like he was buzzing. The korea tour he'd done with house of heroes had been the best time of his life. And he wasn't even in his favorite band then. He wasn't with Tyler. The speedomete read 55. He pushed the brake pedal again. 

He opened the door as quietly as possible, as to not wake his family. Walking downstairs with shoes on was not particularly auiet, however. But Jordan would most likely be up. Sharing a room with him was fun, but their clothes got mixed together; neither of them really cared and they were the same size.

It took him half an hour to find his duffel bag. 

"Is this yours?" Josh threw a black tshirt at his brother.

Jordan glared at him, not realy mad. 

"I don't think so." He threw it back, hitting Josh square in the face.

"Cool."

"Maybe it's Tyler's." It probably was. It seemed a little long for Josh to buy for himself. 

Jordan wiggled his eyebrows and turned around, doing that thing where it looks like you're kissing someone else.

"Oh Tyler, oh, oh." Jordan made exaggerated kissing noises.

Josh rolled his eyes. 

Tyler would be awake.

Josh pulled out his phone and stopped at Tyler's contact. Should he call or text? He really wanted to call. Was that weird? Would Tyler think it was weird? Did Tyler even like phone calls? He couldn't remember ever calling him. He pressed the phone icon anyway.

"Tyler, baby, you left something over here."

"Shut up Jordan, stop being such an-"

"Hello?" Tyler's voice seemed unsure.

"Hey man."

What if he had woken Tyler up?

"Sorry, I hope I didn't wake you up, but- stop being so stupid! god- sorry, I think I have one of your shirts, and I know you might need it to pack."

"No, I was awake, and huh?"

"Jordan's being annoying. I think I have one of your shirts?"

"Is it black? I'm missing a black t shirt."

"Yeah, this is probably it."

Josh had Jordan in a half nelson to avoid any interruptions.

"Um, can I come get it right now? It's just easier to pack when you have everything, and, well." Tyler trailed off.

"Sure dude, just text when you're here so I can let you in."

"Okay. Goodbye Josh."

"Bye Tyler."

Jordan squirmed out of Josh's grasp and started rubbing his neck.

"Geez dude, you must really like him."

"Uh, yeah." Josh looked intently at the jeans he was holding.

"Cool. Sorry. I didn't know it was important."

"It's fine."

"Yeah, no, and Tyler seems cool."

"Cool?"

"Yeah, I think he is, in a Tyler sort of way."

"I guess he is."

It was cheesy. But Josh liked cheesy things, and he understood what Jordan meant.

Tyler let out a sigh after saying goodbye to Josh. He'd spent the last hour looking for that shirt. Now he could continue packing. He pulled into Josh's driveway, texted a quick 'here', and walked up to the porch.

The night air was always special. It felt cool on Tyler's face, not as abrasive. Things weren't usually as abrasive at night. He closed his eyes.

They snapped back open when he heard footsteps. A few seconds later Josh was ushering him inside.

"Hello Josh."

"Hey Ty, the shirt's in my room, lemme go get it."

"Okay." He stopped walking.

"You can come with me."

"Oh."

He followed Josh down to his bedroom. There were clothes thrown in a pile on his bed, an open duffel bag squeezed in near the headboard. Jordan was sitting on his bed. Death Cab was playing on Josh's old CD player. He could recognize the song. Josh was saying something. 

"What?"

"I don't know if I can sleep tonight man, I'm really really excited."

"Okay." Josh would need to sleep if he was going to drive.

Josh smiled at him like he did when there was a surprise party for Mark. Like he knew something that Tyler didn't.

"Are you excited?" 

Oh. Right. "Yes. But I'm also scared."

"Yeah you've never traveled this much really." Josh's voice got soft, like he was thinking. "Here." He held out Tyler's black shirt. Tyler took it and looked closer. It was definitely his. He neatly folded it up, sticking it under his arm.

"Thank you Josh."

"No problem man, I'm glad you got it."

"Yeah, now I can finish packing. To be honest, I don't know how much I'm supposed to take or what I'm even supposed to take."

"Deodorant and toothpaste." Josh grinned.

"Wow, I really stink that bad?"

"Yeah dude I can smell you from here."

"You stink too." Tyler was indignant.

"We're just two smelly boys." This phrase always made Tyler grin.

"That's our new band name."

Josh lowered his voice to imitate an announcer. "Please welcome, all the way from Ohio, Two Smelly Boys!"

It wasn't really funny but Josh chuckled anyway, which made Tyler clap and scrunch up his face the cute way Josh loved.

"But seriously," Josh continued, "I'm just packing a ton of t shirts so I don't have to do laundry in every city. It worked when I was in the other band."

"That sounds like a good idea Josh. Except I wear like four shirts. I'll just see what happens."

Tyler looked at Josh, at his messy hair and into his kind, honest eyes. He loved their shape and color. He remembered the way they looked when they were first meeting. Not once were any of Josh's intentions cruel. His words were never judgmental. He could almost just exist around Josh, in a way that he couldn't in front of anyone else, not even family. It patched up that deep gash inside of him. He ached still, with a loneliness that threatened to steal his breath away. None of that was Josh's fault though. 

Instead of saying all this, he just said

"I need to go finish packing. Thank you for the shirt."

"Sure, see you tomorrow." 

"Goodbye Josh, see you tomorrow."


	2. July

Mark was starting to see double and he had only been driving two hours. In other circumstances, that would be a long time, but they had about six more hours before they reached the first venue. 'Venue' was being used liberally; it was a bar. He wondered why Tyler planned the little tour working backwards. Whatever the case, he needed a break. 

"Guys I gotta stop for a little while." 

Josh looked up from his phone. 

"It says here there's an exit in a few miles with lunch and stuff." 

His stomach growled. 

"You sure are hungry." Tyler was grinning. Tyler had been grinning all morning. Last night Josh had been a little embarassed of how excited he was, but his enthusiasm was matched by the rest of the guys, particularly Tyler. His face was flushed and he had been bouncing on the balls of his feet all morning. 

After stopping to fill up the van outside of Columbus, the group fell into a sleepy sort of rhythm. Michael and Ben were literally asleep, Josh and Tyler sat-eyes glazed over-in the back, and Mark drove. 

"Exit 45, right?" Mark interupted Josh's reverie. 

"Yeah." 

Tyler watched as the scenery changed from roads branching different directions, to trees, to rows of strip malls. He'd been here before. This was Avon Lake, where his grandparents live. 

"Is Taco Bell okay with you guys?" Tyler hoped so. 

"Yeah man!" Josh said, right as Mark said "God, no." 

"It's okay, I'll just drop you guys off and get some actual food." 

Josh shook Ben and Michael's shoulders. 

"We're getting lunch. Taco Bell or somewhere else?" 

"Somewhere else dude, last time I ate there I was shitting for like an hour straight." 

"Same here."

Tyler scrunched up his nose. "Eww dude, you could've just said no." 

Michael just shrugged, sheepish. Josh turned to Tyler. 

"They're crazy, man, crazy." 

"They're missing out on the absolute delicacy that is the chalupa." 

"Yeah, whatever, it's still gross." Mark swung into the parking lot. "Pick you up in thirty minutes?" 

"Sounds good." Josh shut the door to the van, taking a moment to stretch his stiff legs before joining Tyler. 

The two stepped inside the little resturaunt. It was bright, the entire front wall being mostly windows. The sunlight bounced off the brightly colored vynil seats and right into Tyler's eyes. 

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom." Tyler gestured to the back of the store.

"Okay, same order as always?" 

Tyler nodded. Josh found himself watching as he walked to the back. Having Tyler on tour would make him less homesick. Man, he was fucked. Tyler was a drug, or whatever. He was sounding like a sappy indie song. 

"Sir, I can help you over here." 

Josh's stomach knotted up. He could hear the blood rushing near his ears. How long had the girl been waiting on him? 

"Uh yeah, sorry." Shit, he was just making things more awkward. 

"Um I'd like a chalupa supreme, no tomatoes with a uh, a baja blast, and two crunchy chicken tacos and a medium Dr Pepper."

Okay, better than expected considering he couldn't really think straight, anxiety coursing through his veins. He finished paying without a hitch. He grabbed their tray and looked around. 

Tyler was standing near the bathroom entrace, wiping his hands on his jeans. As soon as Tyler saw Josh, he waved him over to a booth away from the window. 

"Here's your stuff." 

"Thank you Josh." 

"Yeah." His heart rate had returned to normal. This was good. He had ignored everything in him that said 'run' and stayed inside to eat. He was getting better at this. 

After their lunch, Mark texted them. They  
were still looking for a place all of them could agree on. Josh wondered why they couldn't just go through more than one drive through, but they were all stubborn. He and Tyler found themselves in a costume shop. It was in a strip mall behind the taco bell. 

The place was smaller, and (thankfully) darker, and Tyler was more comfortable. He could talk to Josh more easily, not everything was competing for his attention. He had himself back. 

Josh was near the masks. Tyler had wandered off to another section of the store. Covered in skeleton themed clothes and hats, and gloves, and just about everything else. This must be the reason for the store name. Along the botfom were hoodies. They were made of an odd material for a hoodie, some sort of silky thin fabric. Tyler instantly liked them. The hood zipped up all the way, making a skull. 

He grabbed two. 

"Hey Josh, look what I found." 

Josh turned to Tyler, some sort of green mask in his hands. 

"Those are sick. We could wear them on stage and, like, zip the hoods all the way up." 

"Yeah, that'd be sick Josh." 

|-/

First real hotel in three weeks. Tyler was relieved. Being in a van all day with four other people was hard. Really hard. He was beyond exhausted. His brain went into survival mode. He'd been living for bathroom breaks, a few moments to cover his ears and find his heartbeat. And here he was now, on a queen bed in a dark cool room. He thought longingly of his yard, where the night air smelled of fresh grass and rain. 

Thinking he was the only one awake, Tyler sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed.

"Tyler?"

Josh's soft whisper sent pain right to his head. Everything was so much worse when he was tired. 

"Can you please not whisper?" 

"Sorry" Josh murmured. "I just can't sleep. Where are you going?"

"I don't know."

Josh got an idea. 

"Let's swim." 

The hotel had an indoor pool. Josh knew Tyler loved swimming.

"The pool is closed." 

"It'll be fine. I'll save you if you start drowning." 

Tyler hated the idea of sneaking into the pool. But he loved the idea of swimming. Of water, of Josh shirtless. He shoved that last thought down. 

"Okay." Tyler grinned. But I'm a better swimmer than you. I'd be the one saving you."

"Yeah, yeah." 

The pool room was easy to get into. Apparently not a lot of people want to swim in the middle of the night in a small town hotel in Ohio. Losers. It was slightly warmer than outside, and completely reeked of chlorine. Josh stripped down to his underwear and jumped in. He surfaced a few minutes later, shaking the hair out of his eyes. Tyler simultaneously wanted to look away and never stop looking. 

Instead he took a slower approach than his friend, neatly folding his pants and hoodie. Now his shirt. He didn't think about this part. There were parts of him he'd rather not talk about tonight. Ever. But he also knew that a wet t shirt was a particular type of hell. He must've been standing there a while because Josh called his name. 

"Coming." 

"You can, you can uh keep your shirt on, it's not weird." 

Josh was too kind for this world. How he knew what was going on, Tyler didn't know. 

"No thank you!" he called back. He took a deep breath and removed the last barrier between Josh and his scars. It's not like the cuts were fresh. The shame was though. Not of only his scars. Of so much. Everything he was. Everything he couldn't be. Things that Josh apprently didn't mind. Things he didn't know about, things he would learn the longer he was around Tyler. Around this mess of a boy who can't really understand him. 

The water was amazing. Tyler forgot how good it felt. He jumped off the last few stairs. He needed his torso covered right now. 

Closing his eyes, Tyler let go and began floating. He let the water take him where it wanted to. Eventually he found himself diving down to sit on the bottom, waving his arms back and forth. He felt the push-pull of the water and it started a reaction in him. Joy. A joy so big he had to do something. His hands flapped, his head shook, and pretty soon his feet were kicking. 

And the exhaustion was shrinking, becoming more manageable. It no longer took root in his bones. Rather, he felt a good sleep would do the trick. Sleep and a few more hours in this pool, quiet and lovely. 

Josh didn't address the scars until they were back in the hotel room. 

"Hey Tyler?" Josh was careful to talk in a soft voice, no whispers. 

"Hmm?"

"You, I just wanted to say you have nothing to be ashamed of. I've gone through tough times too. I mean, not that bad, and I'm not saying I know how you feel but, I don't think you're weird for having them. And you can call me if you feel like that again." 

It was the most seriously Tyler had heard Josh talk in a while, if not ever. He felt loved. 

"Um, thank you Josh. I really needed that." 

"Yeah."

"Yeah. Night."

"Night." 

|-/

The Standford was a popular bar in City Here. The second floor was converted into a music hall with a stage. Tyler and Josh had sold it out. Over 100 people were crammed in the dark room. 

Josh felt like throwing up. If he hadn't been to nervous to eat lunch he would've definetly thrown up. The room was too hot. Was it too hot? 

They were in a dressing room. Tyler was already in his skeleton hoodie, seated on the couch. He'd open twitter, then instagram, then facebook, and start the cycle over, bored. 

"The windowsill looks really nice right?" 

He'd written the second verse of a new song last night. The shows were enough to get his mind through a drought. His brain picked through words and melodies more easily now. The verse slid off his tounge and clacked through his teeth nicely.

"The windowsill looks really nice right?"

"Uh, Tyler?"

"What?"

"Can you like, stop for a little bit?"

"Oh, sorry."

Josh usually didn't mind his talking. Josh also hadn't sat down since they gathered for lunch. Josh hadn't eaten anything. All of those sent off alarm bells in Tyler's mind. Josh had confided in him a long time ago about just how vicious his anxiety could be, but he'd seemed better for this tour, more himself before shows. 

"Are you okay man?" Josh stopped his pacing to briefly look at his friend.

"I'm a little nervous." His voice was higher, strained.

"I'm sorry. It's a big crowd out there but we'll impress them, I promise." Tyler smiled at Josh, trying to give him some reassurance. He was nervous too, but not to the extent Josh was; excited wrather than panicked.

Tyler had no way of knowing if the show would go well, but his words seemed to relax Josh a bit. He stopped pacing and shrugged on his hoodie. 

Josh grabbed his drumsticks and began to tap them against his legs. Feeling the drumsticks so familiar in his hands was grounding. He began to run through Ode to Sleep, then Guns for Hands. 

He'd almost made it through the entire seist when Michael knocked on the doorframe. 

"Five minutes guys, you might wanna head backstage."

"Okay." Tyler shoved his sunglasses in his pants pocket and they were off.

Ode to Sleep started and Tyler could hear the crowd; they were wild. Josh grinned a fake grin and headed out. 

Tyler was proud of Josh for being the first one on stage every show. It stood for something more, in Tyler's eyes: dedication and courage. His entire stature changed when he sat behind his drums and began to play. Tyler was no longer worried. 

Walking on stage, Tyler lost himself to his and Josh's music. He fed off the crowd. There was a break from his loneliness, if only for a few moments. The great beast of depression that threatened to kill him was tame, if only for a few moments. And for a few, shining moments he was connected to everyone else. 

|-/ 

Somewhere between Maryland and Maine, all the stuff Tyler managed to get out built up again. Things he could normally take were unbearable. He figured it was the fatigue. He'd never been a good sleeper, and the van made it worse. 

They were parked outside a gas station. He reluctantly followed behind the group, as it was too hot to stay in the van. 

He should be able to take this, Tyler told himself. It's just a stupid fucking gas station. To get snacks. But soon everything hurt. This was the breaking point. 

Josh was saying something but he was far away. No. No. No. No. He covered his ears but it was still too loud. Closing his eyes didn't do much either. Tyler was losing control. All pretense was dropped. Get out. Get out get out get out get out. He shoved past someone and ran out the door. 

He made it to the van. It was locked. He crouched down, trying to protect himself  
from the outside, from the sound and lights and everything that was marching in, stealing himself away. How long had he been here? He was being destroyed. It hurt, it hurt so bad and only then did he realize the hot tears on his cheeks. Wiping them away would mean bringing his hands away from his ears. Instead they traveled down, down. Tyler licked them off. He could stay right here, licking the saltiness from his face and rocking. The worst was over. 

But then someone was there, they were touching him. Grabbing him away and opening him up, taking away his last defenses between him and the world. Someone was yelling. His shoulders were slamming against the van door. Over and over and over. It wasn't hurting, it wasn't enough. His head. He slammed it into the van. Again. Again. It was like he wasn't there, had no control over his body. 

Hands were grabbing at him again. This time they pulled him completely up. It was Michael. He wrapped his arms aroud Tyler and squeezed. Hard. They stood like that for a while, Tyler still covering his face. 

"Are you okay Tyler?" 

He didn't know how to answer that question.

"Mmm." 

"Do you want me to stop hugging you?" 

He could answer that. He shook his head. 

"Okay." 

Once Tyler could make it into the van, they sped to the next hotel. 

Josh tried to ignore the curious and sometimes downright rude looks of the people in the hotel lobby. Tyler was stimming more obviously than Josh had seen in a while, especially in public. Tyler wasn't hurting himself though, so Josh didn't care. 

He was filled with an unusual sort of boldness when people were being assholes. He stared those fuckers right in the eyes, giving them his ugliest looks. 

They finally made it to the hotel room. Tyler grabbed his bookbag and made it over to the bed. He'd been through enough to know how to soothe himself. The tears were still there, this time coming from embarassment. He'd never had a meltdown in front of all his friends, in front of Josh. 

He couldn't deal with that right now though. Instead, he focused on putting himself back together. Someone had already drawn the curtains and turned off the lights. He shoved his headphones on, more for pressure than for sound-blocking, right now. He turned his thoughts owtward then; he focused on the chipped paint behind the bed, the slightly scratchy surface of the blankets under his fingers. His backpack a familiar sight, heavy against his torso where it was sitting. 

It was going to be a long night.

Josh followed the other guys out the door. 

"Uh Michael?"

"Yeah?" 

"I've just, I mean, I've never seen Tyler that upset. Ever. And then you just hugged him and he was okay? Jesus, I don't know anything about him, and I'm his fucking best friend! I-"

"Josh, Josh, relax. It's not your fault. I've known Tyler literally since birth. His mom taught me what to do in case of a meltdown. He doesn't have them as much anymore, but he gets them if he's stressed or tired or overwhelmed a lot. I'm sure this tour is all three."

Josh nodded.

"He likes to be left alone when he's having a meltdown, makes him less overwhelmed, you know? But he was hurting himself so I had no choice. I squeezed him really tight, he likes the pressure." 

"Okay." Josh was trying to wrap his head around all this. Tyler was usually so composed. It shook him up to see him yelling, so out of control. 

"What do I do now?"

"Just, just make it seem normal. Treat him like you always do. He's always embarassed after, but it's not like he can control it. He needs a friend, and I know you're good at that."

Michael clapped him on the shoulder and walked down the hall. 

After about twenty minutes of Josh sitting, on his phone, and Tyler resting, he started to talk.

"Where'd the other guys go?"

"Some bar they read about online. I think it was called The Mustang."

"Oh." Tyler felt sick.

"You should've gone with them." 

"Nah man, wouldn't be the same without you. Also this is the first hotel we've been in with actual room service. I'm getting a huge dinner." He chuckled awkwardly. 

Tyler knew Josh was trying to humor him, avoid what had happened. It was better to just be honest. 

"I'm sorry Josh, I couldn't help it. Things just get, they get so," he searced for the word. 

He couldn't find it. Instead he just rolled over, facing away from Josh. 

"Hey."

Josh's voice was much closer now, softer. 

"Can I lay down?"

"Yes." 

Josh laid beside Tyler, leaving him space. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Why?"

"Just, I don't know what to say, so I said that." Honesty was Josh's specialty. But he was never brutal. Ever. 

"When I was little, and we were at home, I'd hide under my bed when things got like this." 

"Yeah?" 

"My mom hated it. Especially during school time." He turned over to face Josh. "Zach would just sit with me, or do his own thing in our room. He's a good brother." 

"Was it calmer under there?"

"Yeah, there was less to focus on." 

Josh nodded. 

"Like right now. The lights are off, and all I can really hear is you, and the people next door."

It was quiet for a minute. 

"I'm so embarassed Josh." His voice was almost a whisper. 

"I feel embarassed when I have panic attacks. Did you think of me differently after you saw me have one?" 

Josh wasn't being condecending, he never had been. 

"No."

"It's gonna work out. We don't have a show tomorrow, how about we just chill out? We could play video games or something." 

"Dye your hair?" 

"But I thought you liked the natural?" 

"Blue would be good too, I think. So punk." 

"I'm a punk now."

"Yeah, you are." 

"Do you even know how to dye hair?" 

"No, but instructions come in the package, Josh." 

Josh laughed. It was such a Tyler thing to say. He felt warm. There was light peeking out from under the curtains, letting him see Tyler's face. His pink lips, his sideburns (Josh had no idea why he kept them so long, but they were cute), his crooked teeth were revealed in a yawn. 

God I want to kiss this man. 

Instead Josh fell asleep.

|-/

"Ice blue?" 

Tyler was holding a box of light blue hair dye. It was semi-permanent (Josh had been google searching) and it promised 'no bleeding!'

Josh took the box. 

"Looks good to me." 

It cost a little bit more than it probably would've been at Walmart. But Tyler wanted to come with Josh, and a small store was less overwhelming for him. He didn't want a repeat of yesterday, for Tyler's sake. 

A few hours and tacos later, Josh was sat in the bathtub of their hotel room, shirtless. It saved a shirt. 

Sitting on the toilet, Tyler scrutinized every word in the instruction booklet that came with the bleach. He wasn't going to be the reason Josh looked like a clown. He quite liked Josh's hair. No, he really liked Josh's hair, all curly and dark and just the right length to pull. He shook that thought away. If Josh wanted blue hair, he'd look hot with blue hair. He'd look hot bald, if Tyler was being honest. 

It was now or never. He stepped in the bathtub, behind Josh, and started painting Josh's hair with the bleach. Tyler wasn't taking the oppritunity to run his hands through Josh's hair for granted. He swore he heard Josh sigh when he started combing through the curls. 

He got closer. 

He got closer and the smell of the bleach was mixing with the smell of Josh; it wasn't exactly bad, just strong. He'd remember this scent for a long time. 

Falling into an easy rhythm of joking and talking, Josh and Tyler felt the entire process speed by. Soon Josh faced himself in the mirror, blue hair unfamiliar on his head. Tyler had done a good job. The roots weren't stained in the front and his hair was covered all the way. 

"You're too intimidating now. You'll scare the audience. I hate to do this but," he paused for dramatic effect, "you're out of the band Josh." 

Josh frowned comically. 

"I'll go pack my bags then." 

They laughed over their stupid joke for a little longer than it deserved.

"But seriously, you did a good job man."

"Sick."

"So sick."

Things were good, and if Tyler sleepily burrowed himself practially under Josh in their shared bed, neither minded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not exactly sure when the next update will happen, but hopefully soon! I am going to finish it asap! Thank you for reading!


	3. August

Ichthus festival was hot. It was 90 degrees out at 11 am. Tyler was already sticky. He and Josh were on a tiny stage, double and triple checking every peice of equipment. After this, they needed to go up to the main house of the festival to do an interview and a promotional video. Tyler was sweating with nerves on top of everything else. 

Josh wasn't doing much better. Interviews. The word made him nauseous. During the small amount of interviews that they had taken part in, Tyler had taken the lead. He hoped that wasn't any different today. Tyler had been having good days, so it seemed likely.

Anxiety wasn't rational, however, and he was thinking of all the ways it could go wrong. He was imagining himself throwing up all over the interviewer when he realized Tyler was speaking.

"Huh?"

"It's time to head up to the main building." 

Josh was pale.

"You look pale. Do you feel okay?" 

Josh nodded. "Nervous."

"I'll do most of the talking, no one will care."

Apparently that was the case. No one saw how shaky Josh was, not even Tyler. To be fair, three people were talking to him. 

"What? You're all talking over each other."

Well, one person was talking to him about god knows what. Josh couldn't focus. All the sounds were coming in weirdly. Far away noises were louder than the people right next to him, crowding him, stealing his air."

"Bathroom." Josh wasn't sure if anyone heard him, but he had to get away. Where was the bathroom? Oh god oh god oh god. He found a room off to the side that no one was in. This'll do. He locked the door behind him and sat on the floor, back against the wall.   
4, 7, 8,   
4, 7, 8. 

But it wasn't working. His breath got faster and faster until he couldn't control it.

'Oh god I'm gonna die.'

Was he dying? He couldn't tell. He was going to die in some unkown room alone. He wasn't going to make it to that interview. A stupid worry. 

"Josh?" 

The door opened, and Tyler was peering in, unsure.

"Oh." 

Tyler saw Josh on the floor, hyperventilating. 

What should he do? This was a panic attack. What would help? Should he give him a hug? He didn't know. 

"Josh, should I get someone?"

"NO! No, no."

"Okay, it's okay, I won't get anyone then." 

Tyler slid down beside Josh.

He had no clue what to do. If his phone wasn't dead he would google it. Instead, he just sat beside his friend, frozen. 

After about five minutes Josh's breathing returned to normal. The worst was over. Tyler was sitting next to him, and Josh was glad he hadn't left, if also a little embarassed. 

"Hey, Josh." 

"Hey, Tyler."

"Are you okay?"

"Uh, shaky."

Tyler nodded. 

"I'm sorry you had a panic attack." 

Josh just smiled at him, and Tyler could tell it was fake. There was no reason to be smiling right now. His smile turned into a frown. 

"Oh god, we missed the interview didn't we? We're late now." 

Tyler checked his phone.

"Hey, hey. It's 12:05 right now, we have ten minutes. But I can get it delayed, or cancel it if we need to." 

"No, it'll be good for the band."

"Don't worry about that. I know not worrying is easier said than done."

Josh nodded. He felt really tired all of a sudden. His hands were shaking. 

"Are you thirsty?" Tyler didn't know what to ask.

"Yeah." Josh stood up, still shaky, but even more embarassed by the thought of ruining their second real interview. 

Tyler followed Josh out of the small room and into the busy hallway. It was cramped and Tyler wanted to get out. 

So did Josh. He was looking for the exit, he had seen a vending machine on the front of the building. Water was better for times like this, but he couldn't ask someone for water, not now. Tyler didn't look too good either. He was more visibly agitated by the second, bouncing and pulling at his hair.

Where was the crew? He didn't know. The front door was in sight. 

As Josh put two quarters into the Coke machine, he could hear Tyler murmuring something beside him. 

'No thank you, we don't want to do an interview today, maybe next time. Michael will take care of it.' 

Three times repeated, and Josh was halfway finished with his sprite. Tyler didn't need to cancel. 

"Hey, Tyler, you don't need to cancel, I feel better now. I'll get through it." 

"Okay." 

|-/

The interview was crap. It was too rushed, and the interviewer didn't know anything about them. It was difficult to answer some of the questions without sounding like an asshole, and Tyler wasn't exaclty the most tactful person. 

The interviewer said that she 'wanted to do this again sometime' and that 'it was a lot of fun'. Mark snorted when Tyler, polite as ever, said 'no thank you, I would rather not.'

Josh had to smooth it over. 

But now it was time to get ready for the show. 

Josh's body was exhausted, the anxiety mixing with the heat and making him miserable. He wanted to bang on his drums, so that's what he did. 

Both of them began the show with something to get out. Ode to Sleep and Slowtown were unusually angry. Tyler jumped more than usual, his energetic presence turning frantic. But they went on. Not that they had long to adjust their moods in the twenty minute set. 

"Come visit us after if you want." 

Tyler and Josh left the stage, dried their sweat with towels and regrouped in the span of three minutes. They joined what was left of the audience, soaking up what the kids had to say. And they were mostly kids. College kids, teenagers, all cramming into Tyler's space. They loved Josh, too, but they wanted to tell Tyler about the night they wanted to quit living but didn't. 

If they noticed Josh's short answers or Tyler shaking off their hands from his shoulders they didn't remark. 

"Hey! Tyler, right?" Two guys were hanging in the back. 

Tyler looked at them. 

"Yes?"

"Real good set you guys had, real good."

"Thank you!"

"Never seen someone have a seziure while rapping about offing themselves before, interesting bit." 

Tyler's heart dropped. 

"What?"

Josh noticed his voice go flat. 

"Just leave, dude. If you don't like it you don't like it." Josh sounded tired and weak, even to himself. 

"No, I think we'll stay."

The taller guy moved toward Tyler. 

"Something's off with you, what's up?"

Tyler had stopped listening. He was looking at the ground, near the guy's flip flops. A buzzing sound was coming from somewhere. The man was talking. He knew the words couldn't be nice. He took his chance. 

"What the fuck?" The tall man stumbled back. Tyler had stomped on his toes. Hard. 

"Leave. I don't want you here. No thank you."

Tyler said this loudly, gaining the attention of Michael. 

Michael looks like he lives in a gym. The men quickly walked away muttering apologies and talking about how they were 'just joking'.

"Assholes." Josh said. This day sucked balls. 

"Assholes." Tyler said. He wanted to go to sleep. 

But instead he and Josh set up the tents. Since Mark and Michael were putting up gear, Tyler and Josh put up both tents. Josh's hands were shaking, and Tyler wishes he could shake, just to get rid of some of the horrible black goo that covered his insides. But he couldn't stop thinking about those men. They brought back what he had fought with since he was old enough to be self aware. He was too weird for anyone. Josh and the others were just managing to live with him because he wrote the music. The music about 'offing himself'. 

He looked at Josh. All the fans got to hug him and he grinned at them and looked at them and made them feel fucking great. And Tyler couldn't do anything. 

They finished the tents quietly.

|-/

"I wish I was better with people."

Josh looked, letting him continue.

"Just- like before the interview. I knew you were nervous, I knew you were panicking, but I didn't know what to do. I wanted to hug you, but that always makes things worse for me, but I knew you were different, but what if we weren't close enough yet? I just froze."

Tyler met Josh's eyes. 

"I didn't know what to do, I'm sorry."

"It's okay Tyler." He sat down on his sleeping bag. Tyler followed. 

"Hey, how about I tell you when I need a hug, or when I need something else? And then you can help me feel okay. It won't be fake because I know you want to help." 

"Yeah."

It was a good idea. Tyler felt bad still. 

"You okay?"

"Yeah." A pause. 

"No."

"What do you feel?" 

"I don't know. You just, you just always know what to do. And people want to be your friend, and they're always telling me how friendly you are, and how fun it was to meet you after a show, and how kind you are. I mean- I sound like such a shitty friend right now- I just wish I could be the same way. But I can't, no matter how hard I try." 

It was dark, but Tyler's voice let Josh know he was crying. Tyler was jealous of him? It made sense. Not that he was any better or anything, but they were such opposites. Where Tyler was good at stuff, Josh struggled. And vice-versa. 

"I'm sorry, I just made it all about me again, I shouldn't have told you. You're too nice to me." 

"Hey, hey. I was just thinking." 

Josh spread his arms. 

"Here, if you want." 

It was awkward since they were both sitting, but Tyler managed to crawl over the blankets and into Josh's arms. Josh hugged tightly. After a while he started speaking, chest vibrating with his words. Tyler hummed with it. 

"So, You're jealous of me for having a lot of friends and being likeable. I'm jealous of you for being so eloquent and assertive. We're like, complete opposites. And that's good, dude." 

Tyler moved his head to look at Josh. 

"Yeah I guess. I mean, I wouldn't last two minutes with me as a friend. We'd argue constantly."

"I don't know, if you're friends with yourself then you probably have all the same opinions. "  
"Yeah."

"Unless you were from another universe, and one teeny tiny thing was different, and it ended up throwing everything off. Like there's a Tyler out there that's never touched a piano." 

"He's probably dead. And we just talked- you just talked- about the manyverse theory for like an hour the other day."

"Multiverse, and that's really morbid, dude." 

Tyler shrugged into his friend's stomach. His mind would circle to the same issues in a few months, but he was tired. Despite the exhaustion, his brain felt strangely awake. 

"I'm not really sleepy yet." Josh was the same as him right now. Tyler smiled to himsef. 

"Me neither, you wanna do something?" Tyler was being nice; he wanted nothing more than to rest his aching, sweaty body. 

"Not really. I'm like tired, not sleepy." 

"Good." 

Tyler separated himself from Josh and laid down. It was far too hot to get under the sleeping bag. Josh followed suit. 

"I hope there's another me out there that's at this festival and it's like, seventy degrees out, you know?" 

"That Josh has no idea how good he has it." 

Tyler turned to his side, facing Josh.

"If that multiverse thing really is true, there's a world where they know the multiverse is real for sure."

"And there's also a multiverse where you don't look too deep into things and ruin the fun." 

Josh hoped he understood that it was a joke.

"Nah, that's the one thing that doesn't change." 

Okay. Okay, he did. 

Josh was an optimist, and even though the day was shit, he got to be with Tyler. Tyler sat next to him in that room where he breathed. Tyler played his heart out beside him, twitching and flapping in a very Tyler way, a way that Josh loved. It was another thing to add to the long list of 'things about Tyler that make him good'.

"I love you Tyler." 

Christ, where did that come from? Did it come from the fact that he was so in love with this man he could hardly stand it, that he had spent all day laughing and singing and hurting with Tyler and he wanted it to never end? All of this was out of nowhere. But not really. Josh had loved Tyler since he came all the way to his house to get a shirt he needed to pack. He just pushed it down. 

"I love you too, but where did that come from?" 

Tyler loved Josh in a different way than Josh loved Tyler. Josh was meaning it in a 'bro' way, right? He still said it though, and that made Tyler blush. 

"Just thinking about stuff." 

"Okay." 

"Goodnight Ty."

"Goodnight Josh."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	4. September

Josh felt strange. The switch from living in a van with his best friends to cleaning tables at a resturaunt was jarring. It was bittersweet.

Twenty one pilots still had shows to attend, however, and they were bigger in their hometown. Tyler had called him last night, excitedly babbling about a song he'd written for his mother, on the ukelele of all instruments. Josh still beat on his drums. 

He had just dropped off a load of dirty dishes when he heard a familiar voice.

"No thanks, I don't like sushi, I want to see Josh Dun. Is he here? I'll be fast." 

Tyler was at the front, talking to Josh's boss.

"Hey Ty, what's up?" 

"I got this email today." He handed Josh his phone.

A label. A label had emailed their work email and asked if they would be interested in signing. They were on the radar. Josh hadn't heard of them, but it was a label. 

"They're coming to the Newport on the fourteenth." 

Tyler bounced around Josh, energy high. 

"Oh! Also, my grandpa's having this huge birthday party. He's turning seventy. My mom said I could invite you." 

"Yeah, when is it?" 

"Saturday."

"Where is it?" 

"My parent's house." 

"Yeah, sure. It sounds fun."

Honestly hanging around an entire extended family that wasn't your own souded awkward. It would be awkward if Josh made it so, and he had a history of doing just that when he was nervous. 

But they had labels interested. And Tyler needed him to be there. 

"Thank you! Hugs?" 

He sounded like his mother. Josh giggled.

"Duh!"

Josh hugged his friend hard and pulled away when Tyler did. 

"Goodbye Josh."

"Bye."

|-/ 

Tyler was glad he'd asked Josh to come to the party. His relatives were loud and condecending. He was making a sweeping statement but it was mostly true. Maybe if he showed his bandmate to the group they'd belive him when he discussed his music. Hopefully the remarks about quitting college would be less frequent. 

He knew that was unrealistic. 'But Tyler, you were doing so well! You were doing better! I thought you loved basketball?' The last question wasn't exactly incorrect. After all, his auts and uncles had spent the last fifteen years buying basketball themed christmas presents for him.

His mother was a godsend. She didn't care what he wore for the party (hoodie and jeans it was) and already told him he could escape to his room if he needed, no worrying about their pushy family. 

Josh was arriving fifteen minutes earlier than the guests. Mrs. Joseph told him it was a dressy casual affair. He straightened his bowtie and knocked on the door. 

"Hello! Come in, Josh. I'm so glad you're here. You're a lot more help to Tyler than he lets on." 

Josh didn't know what to say to that, so he just smiled and nodded. 

"Tyler's in the dining room."

"Thanks Mrs. Joseph."

Tyler was setting the table. 

"Hey."

"Hey, man." 

"You're wearing a bowtie. I like it."

Josh looked rediculously cute. His shirt was even tucked in. 

"You don't have to keep the shirt in like that, Josh." Tyler gestured to his hoodie. 

"I'm underdressed, but my family's probably not much more formal than I am." 

Josh untucked his shirt, hoping the bottom wouldn't be too wrinkled. 

"Tyler!" 

"Coming!" He handed Josh the salad forks. 

"Here, can you finish?" 

Josh nodded. 

Tyler stepped into the kitchen and stood beside his mother.

"I need you to put these in a dish." 

Tyler started working. 

"Josh looks nice, doesn't he?"

"I guess?" 

"He's a nice boy. I wouldn't mind him being my son in law."

Tyler's cheeks reddened. 

"Mom, stop."

"Have you seen the way he looks at you? He likes you, Ty."

"No he doesn't." He sat down the tray of dinner rolls and looked at his mother. 

"Why not?"

"He's straight."

"Has he ever told you that?"

"Well, no, but-"

"He likes you." 

|-/

Seventy years old. He could hardly believe it. Well, yes, he could. His oldest few grandchildren were college aged, in their early twenties. He'd been blessed with a large family. The only issue with that was all his grandchildren, even the ones who were starting college in the fall, sat at the 'kid's table'. He couldn't talk to any of his grandkids or their friends while he ate. 

One head of hair stood out to him as he was welcomed to his son's home. It was blue. The Josephs tended to have brown hair. The blue headed boy was standing close to Kelly, chuckling at something she'd said. He made his way through the warm hellos and hugs and happy birthdays to the boy at the end of the line. 

"Do I have a grandson I don't know about?" 

"Hi Mr. Joseph, I'm Josh, Tyler's friend. I'm in the band with him." 

They shook hands.

"Nice to meet you Josh, please, call me Richard. Or Grandpa, I don't mind." 

Josh grinned. 

"Okay."

"Tell me, do you know where that grandson of mine is?"

"I think he's taking the trash out Mr.- uh, Richard."

Tyler liked to miss the chaos that went along with all the guests arriving. 

Kelly ushered all the grownups into the dining room and that was that. He missed Tyler, the only grandkid he hadn't greeted, and, if he was going to be honest, his closest one. 

Chris used to just drop him off at his house instead of hiring a babysitter. Tyler wasn't his grandpa's favorite grandkid, but he was 'his favorite Tyler'. Their bond was special. They shared interests, watching basketball games on the small box set he had; shelling peanuts while watching, throwing the shells in the trashcan between them. He'd learned lots about basketball from Tyler, and much more. 

Richard broke out of his reverie to enjoy his meal. By the time everyone had finished the birthday cake he found himself wondering where Tyler was now. He'd talked to his friend Josh, but not yet Tyler. He looked out the window. Ah, there he was. 

"Excuse me, I have quite a few grandchildren, but I still remember if I don't visit them all."

He stretched his legs and headed to the front porch. There were three rocking chairs, Richard took the one next to Tyler. 

"I've missed you Tyler, you've been so busy!" 

"I missed you too Grandpa." 

"What is touring like?" 

"It's- it's amazing. It's also tiring." 

"Is it something you could do forever?"

"Yes. And I might have to, labels are starting to notice us." 

"Labels! That's wonderful. Now you have something to wave in Aunt Christine's face when she mentions how you dropped out."

"They're emails."

"Metaphorically."

"Oh."

"Speaking of metaphors, I listened to house of gold yesterday. I love it. So does Grandma."

"I'm glad." 

They both sat in their chairs for a moment, just rocking and listening to the wind in the trees. 

"I just wish things would go faster."

Richard chuckled at this, he couldn't help it. 

"You're so much like your mother, always rushing around." He waved his hand to emphasize. " But, you know, being the pantaloon isn't as horrible as you make it out to be." 

His grin turned solemn. 

"I was like you Tyler. I wanted to die, I wanted to give up. But you can't. In my opinion, being old is the best thing that's happened to me. I have your grandmother, and all of you. I got to watch you grow up, watch you fight to be here. All of you have made it worth it to me to stay." 

Tyler's eyes stung. 

"I love you Grandpa, I'm sorry, I don't say it enough." 

"I know Tyler, you've shown me." Richard leaned back in his chair, rocking it slightly. 

"Also, who'd you bring along?" 

"That's Josh, my bandmate."

"Your bandmate?" Tyler's grandpa raised one eyebrow. "I've been around the sun more than once Tyler, no one brings their bandmates to a family reunion. He special?" 

Tyler looked for Josh; he was laughing with Tyler's grandma, visible through the kitchen window. Tyler's stomach lurched when he saw that grin. 

"Yeah, he is." 

"Have you told him?"

Tyler stuttered. His grandpa was implying something, he was sure.

"Wait, you're, you, you think I love him? Like that way?"

"Yes, Tyler, I've known you for a while. You don't just smile for any reason."

"But that's gay."

Tyler's grandpa sighed. 

"Listen here Ty. God made you the way he wanted you to be. I don't care who you love, as long as they're a good person. Josh seems like a fine young man. Now I don't know why he chose to dye his whole head blue, but I guess it doesn't matter in the music industry." 

That's what his grandfather thought? Josh deserved the truth. 

"I gotta go tell someone something, goodbye."

He chuckled to himself. Tyler was nothing if not to the point. 

"Bye Tyler, tell Maddy to come over here when you see her, ey?"

"Okay." 

|-/

Tyler practially pulled Josh up the stairs and into his childhood bedroom. 

"Here." He patted the space next to him on the bed. 

Josh was entertained, he'd never seen Tyler act quite like this. He joined him on the bed. 

He took a deep breath. Just like he practicesd in the mirror five minutes before. 

"I like you Josh, like romatically and stuff. Sorry if this makes things weird but I have to tell you." 

Josh grinned. He just sat there for a little while, looking at this beautiful boy in front of him. Tyler was squirming. Say something Josh, you idiot. 

"I like you too Tyler. Really like you." 

Tyler didn't dare breathe. 

"Can I kiss you please?" 

"Yeah."

Tyler leaned in and kissed Josh on the lips. It was the softest kiss Josh had ever recieved. He wanted to deepen it. He put his hand on Tyler's jaw, a silent 'is this okay?' but pulled back. Tyler wouldn't pick up on what that meant, most likely. 

"Can I kiss you?" 

"Yes, yes please." It was soft. 

Josh said nothing, just cupped Tyler's face again, the rough stubble tickling his palm. He closed the gap. Tyler's lips were soft, so soft, and dry. But that was okay. It was Tyler, he was kissing Tyler. Tyler with the hair and the singing. His best friend. He pulled away for air. 

They grinned at each other. 

"Is it weird if I still call you bro?" 

"You're a dumbass, Dun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I don't feel like this story has reached the end, or at least the concept. This was supposed to be my last chapter but I'm not sure. Please comment if you have suggestions!!


	5. October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not exactly summer anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to ao3 user beyondmythoughts for the idea! Check her works out!

Summer was slowly turning to fall. Josh found himself holding on, wearing short sleeves as long as possible, taking his coffee iced well into October. But he couldn't deny his surroundings, the way his breath puffed out in fromt of him, visible. His walks were much crunchier, too, the leaves falling to make a red and brown road. 

Josh was happy, even with his chapped lips and runny nose. He hummed an old song of Tyler's as he walked. He'd listened to Johnny Boy about ten times as much as he'd performed it. He liked to think it was about him, though he'd met Tyler after it was written. It didn't matter. Tyler always said that a song had about as many meanings as people who listened to it. Tyler was a romantic. 

Speaking of his boyfriend, he was on the way to his house, armed with snacks and CDs. They were going to spend the whole day together. The house's heat wasn't working (it hardly ever was, they were too broke to replace the unit) but Jordan had five of his college buddies over for the weekend. 

He shifted his bags around in order to knock on the door. Mark appeared a few seconds later, giving Josh a gloved pat on the back as he stepped inside. 

"You looking for Tyler?" Mark shook his head. "Of course you are. Your loon of a boyfriend is outside. In the cold. On the porch. And there was frost on the ground this morning." Mark huffed into his scarf. He looked miserable.

It wasn't really that cold, but Mark was cold natured and often dramatic for the sake of comedy. 

"So sorry man, hope you survive." 

Josh rolled his eyes and dropped the snack bags on the counter. 

The screen door was squeaky, alerting Tyler of any visitors. This visitor had purple hair and soft lips.

"Josh!" He shot up, notebook and pen forgotten in favor of hugging the man. 

"You're here! You're here!" Tyler was doing a funny dance around Josh, clapping. 

Josh's heart swelled. Tyler was adorably disheveled, rosy cheeks dimpled by his huge grin. As usual, the grin was directed at his shoes. His hoodie was given to him by Josh, mailed from Minnesota. 

That's where Josh had been. Three (unnecesary) weeks at a ski lodge with his cousins. They had spent far too much time together to spend weeks apart without missing each other. His siblings teased him mercilessly about the amount of time he spent texting Tyler, mailing Tyler postcards, and generally talking about Tyler. 

They had been at the resort's shop one day when his eyes landed on a black hoodie, wonderfully soft, and just thick enough to give warmth without agitating Tyler. It had a simple design on the front, a mountain range with wolves dotting the foreground. Tyler would certainly love it. 

And he had. He barely took it off, for two reasons. One, the heater was broken. And two, it reminded him of Josh. It was nowhere near as snuggly as a Josh hug, but it would have to do. 

But now it didn't! He'd hugged Josh for real, and they were going to spend the whole day together. 

Josh knew better than to ask why he was outside when it was frigid. Tyler sat on the back porch every day, regardless of weather, except maybe when it was raining. He was happiest outside. 'Things flow better. The air, time. I flow better outside. It isn't as, it's not staticky' Tyler had told him this one afternoon. 

Josh found himself liking the outdoors more. 

"Working on a song?" 

"Yeah."

A few minutes later Tyler cleared his throat. 

"How does this sound?" He turned toward Josh. 

"I can't see past my own nose...

|-/

"It's my turn to pick. I had to sit through eight episodes of the X Files last time we had movie night. That's not even a movie." 

"Yeah yeah, what'll it be, movie buff?" 

Josh was standing near the tv. The volume control didn't work on the remote, and sometimes you'd have to adjust the wires because they only worked when they were bent a certain way. 

"Donnie Darko?" 

"Sounds cool."

"Popocorn?"

"Nah. Can you get me a RedBull?" 

"Sure thing." 

A few minutes later Josh was snuggled with Tyler under a giant blanket. It was hard sometimes to remember that Tyler needed initiate physical contact first, but when he did it was lovely. He ran his fingers through Josh's hair, tentatively getting closer and closer. 

It was happening now. Josh couldn't concentrate on the movie when Tyler was doing something much more interesting. He was tracing Josh's forehead, smoothing out his eybrows and scratching his head. It was repeated and he found himself dozing off with the motions. 

"Your noss kinda looks like a beak from this angle. In a cool way." 

That brought him out of his haze. 

"Thanks?" 

He wasn't sure if Tyler was teasing him or not. Tyler had never said anything but compliments about his looks before, so he supposed it was a unique praise. 

Tyler's hands paused. 

"I didn't mean it mean, sorry." 

Josh giggled. 

"Okay, just don't tell our manager that." 

"Does he have a big nose?" Tyler couldn't remember. 

"A huge honker. So big. It fits him though." 

"Ah." 

His hands started their route again. 

"Oh god! Can you take your hands off each other for one second? I can't even sit at my own table without being bombarded by a Hallmark movie scene." 

"The cold makes Mark angry." 

"I've noticed." 

Josh dropped his voice to a murmur. 

"Let's really annoy him. Wanna make out?" 

Tyler giggled. 

"Definitely." 

Tyler climbed onto Josh and shoved his tounge in Josh's mouth. The attack was sudden, and Josh had to turn his surprised gag into a moan. It wasn't real, and it was far from romantic, but that wasn't their purpose right now. 

"Jesus Christ. Do that in your room Joseph." 

"You're just mad because you don't have a girlfriend." 

Mark put his hand on his chest, as if he was shot. 

"Hitting me where it hurts, Dun." 

Tyler got off of Josh, putting a little bit of space between them. He wanted to touch Josh but his whole body was reeling with the 'touched' buzz that lingered for minutes and it wasn't exactly pleasant. Josh knew this, and he claimed their short kisses and brief cuddles were plenty. Josh was a very physical person, though, and Tyler hoped he wasn't hurting him. 

He was suddenly very tired and starting to get overwhelmed. 

"You wanna go take a nap?" 

Josh yawned, then laughed.

"I guess I need one." 

Josh didn't seem disappointed. But how long would that last? Tyler wanted to do so much more. He wanted to give Josh everything. It was just too many feelings at once. It didn't take a lot to leave Tyler tired and overstimulated. 

They got under the covers of Tyler's double bed. 

"No offense, but why aren't we at your house? It's warm there." 

"A few guys are staying with my brother for the night."

"A sleepover?"

"Yeah, kinda like an adult one I guess." Josh grinned at the idea of Jordan being an adult. 

"I've never been to a sleepover before." Tyler said this more to himself than Josh.

"You didn't miss anything, they just draw dicks on your face with sharpie if you fall asleep first."

Tyler would take a million phallic drawings over the loneliness he endured. He didn't say this though, Josh looked like he was in a good mood. 

Instead he just said "We should have my first sleepover tonight. Wanna stay over?"

Josh grinned. "Sounds fun to me."

|-/

After their nap Tyler was ready to go somewhere. Specifically the music store. He'd borrowed Josh's 'Transatlantacism' album too many times. After all, Josh still loved to listen to it while driving. 

So they buttoned up coats and laced up shoes and faced the wind. 

The music store. Something happened in the music store. Tyler zoned out and found himself at peace. His thoughts floated through his head as if they were wading through water; not at all the harsh hailstorms he was used to. This made his hands hungry to touch, but not unbearably so. 

Josh didn't care, he'd learned that conversation was hard in any store for Tyler; instead he followed suit and wandered through the aisles of CDs. 

A few minutes later he heard a humming sound from the back of the store and smiled to himself. Tyler's voice was always beautiful, even when he wasn't even paying attention to its tone. Josh continued shuffling through the stacks until he found two albums he absolutely needed. Well not really, as he'd most likely have to put one away. He reluctantly filed 'Plans' away in favor of a new Sigur Ros album. 

"Why'd you put the other one back?" 

Josh jumped. "Damn, you're quiet."

Tyler looked sheepish. "Sorry." 

He proceeded to stomp his feet a few times. To make up for something? Josh didn't know. Maybe this was a joke of his. 

"I can't get both right now."

"I can get it!"

"You sure?"

"Yeah! You got me this," he said, gesturing to his hoodie. "a CD's like way cheaper anyway."

"Thanks man."

"You're welcome." 

Tyler paid for the three albums, one of which was his own, and left the store, Josh following. 

|-/

Josh was going slow, a break between each kiss to let Tyler's skin catch up a bit. He was working on the soft skin of his neck, right under his jaw. Tyler's feet kicked in reaction to everything that was happening, and it was so much. 

"You good?" Josh would ask this a million times if needed. Kissing Tyler was a privilege and he wasn't going to take it for granted. He wanted the kisses to be as thoughtful and gentle as their recipient. 

"Wait."

Tyler leaned forward, searching for Josh's hand. He sat up so Josh wouldn't have to prop himself up and grabbed his hand. Josh's hand needed to be held while this happened, it acted as a tether, keeping Tyler here, in this moment. 

"Okay." 

Josh continued with the go-ahead, this time focusing on Tyler's face. He especially loved his cheeks, giving barely-there pecks around the rose tinted skin. 

It ended with a brush of his lips against Tyler's. Tyler deepened the kiss, eventually pulling back with a grin. He lightly pecked Josh's nose.

"Good." 

"What's good?"

"Your nose. There's a little bump here," Tyler ran his finger over the bridge "and then it rounds out near the bottom." He puncutated his words with another kiss. 

Josh laughed as he fell back onto the bed. Soon they were both staring at the ceiling, lost in their own thoughts. 

"Who's Johnny Boy about?" Tyler looked over, expression blank, and Josh immediately backed out. "I mean, you don't have to tell me if it's too personal." 

"We've made out before Josh, I can tell you." 

Tyler's tone wasn't harsh or mocking, and Josh learned long ago that this was his way of reassuring, by giving reasons why Josh didn't have to be nervous. 

"It's about me. I kind of wrote it from the perspective of what a friend would be like. A real friend, someone I didn't have to pretend in front of." 

Josh just nodded. Once again his heart hurt for the loneliness that Tyler endured. He would never be lonely again if Josh had a say in it. He'd never be sad or angry either, if Josh had his way. 

"It's about, it's about not being cut out for a 'normal' life. It's about liking men and, uh, I guess wanting to do something different with your life. But that doesn't mean I can't do as much. And my 'friend' saw that in me. It was armor for a while, no one can call me 'retard' or 'faggot' if I don't let them." 

Josh hummed to indicate he was listening. He wanted to change that. He didn't know if it was his place.

"You told me one time that a song has so many meanings because so many people listened to it." He moved to look at Tyler's face. "Can I be that friend?" 

Tyler's eyes were strangely glossy. It was a painfully long time before Josh heard "You already are." It was quiet and strained, but Tyler meant it. He meant it more earnestly than he had meant most things in his life.   
"You're more."

He wiped his eyes and continued their soft conversation.

In true sleepover fashion, the sun was coming up just as Josh and Tyler's conversation turned into snores.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	6. November

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyler gets some news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not exactly summer anymore, but im sticking with the title. this chapter is more tyler-centric.

Tyler felt the world spinning and wasn't too keen on spinning with it. Nick was moving out of the rental house, along with Michael. That meant he and Mark could no longer afford to pay for rent. He felt immature, reacting the way he did, blowing up and stomping off, hair squeezed in the iron grip of his fists. 

His ability to 'participate in life', as his mother phrased it, decreased with the temperature. The more depressed he got, the angrier he was. Angry at god for his unanswered questions, angry at Josh for texting so much, but still angry when he didn't check up on him. He was furious with himself, too scared and stubborn and sick to avoid indulging in a pity party. 

He was sitting in his car, just sitting, because driving was too much right now. He considered calling Josh, but he had no energy for people, for talking.

No tears were leaking from his eyes, the only indication he was angry being the burning in his face and his clenched fists. He untangled his fingers from his throbbing scalp. 

His mind would start its long cycle of thoughts about moving if he didn't distract it. So he went through his favorite things, lecturing himself on chords and listing off different types of gear and their purposes. 

He started mouthing the words, not really caring if people could see into his beat up car. 

He knew what to do. The sun was almost set but there was a place that would always be there for him. Tyler shifted into reverse and headed to his parent's house. 

When he reached it, however, he drove past. Behind the house was a patch of woods. He killed the engine and started the familiar route. Even though it was dark- save for his phone flashlight- he knew the trees and stumps dotting the overgrown path. 

This was Tyler's path. He'd made it all those years ago, when Zach couldn't even ride a bike yet. His parents had lectured him for twenty minutes about his habit of getting lost, not allowing Tyler a word in edgewise, else he would've pointed out that he wasn't lost, he'd made it back to the house when he wanted to. 

This land saw him through a lot of pain. He skipped looking at one particular tree. 'Rates of suicide in autistic individuals are higher than that of their neurotypical peers'. He wasn't a statistic, but his thoughts had turned irrational one night. It wasn't tragic or beautiful or fixed in the hospital. And he's angry at the entire notion that it could be (who the hell made that up). No, it was a sickness he still fights to this day. 

He followed his path to the clearing, a grassy spot with little underbrush. He sat down.

Too much was happening and he didn't know what to do. He was supposed to go to LA in two weeks to record an album. His boyfriend had his own apartment. He was moving. His back porch wouldn't be coming with him. His little studio set-up would be moved, along with his entire world. He had work tomorrow, in a store that left him with no energy left to drive, much less create. 

Oh god. 

Things came to a head and he was frozen. The night air might as well be the vacuum of space for all he could feel. How much time had passed? 

Then he wasn't frozen, and he could feel everything. It was too much. Millions of spiders were on him, making their way under his skin. Not literally, of course, but he had no time to think as the shed off his clothes, save for his underwear. It was so cold, but it was nice. It shocked him, much better than all the feelings of his denim pants and cotton hoodie and shirts and socks and shoes (the laces were squeezing his feet with uneven pressure). 

He didn't think any of this, not consiously, but instead felt it. He felt the world spinning, not literally, of course, but his head might've been metaphorically spinning with it. 

Nothing had been resolved, it never was. His life was a bunch of hairs being stuck together. Josh wouldn't be a fan of that metaphor, his stomach was weak. 

"Tyler?" 

Zach's voice was faint. He must've seen the car. If Tyler's mouth would cooperate he could yell back that he was alright. Instead it was a whisper. 

"Tyler?!" 

A rustling sound.

"Please be okay, please be okay." 

This was muttered. Tyler could hear the crunching coming closer. 

"Tyler?" Zach was used to lowering his voice around his brother.

Zach just started collecting his clothes. Tyler couldn't think over the crunching. 

"Here you go." His clothes were placed near his hand. Zach sat next to the clothes. 

"You want me talking?" 

Tyler nodded. Zach was a good brother. And he wasn't. He hadn't even asked him how college was going in a while. Tears fell. 

"I came home today. Mom made a huge fuss. She made me meatloaf and mashed potatoes."

Zach's favorite dish. 

"Sorry." It was wet and barely heard by Zach. 

"Why?" 

His words wouldn't work. He tried to start from the beginning. 

"Sorry, Tyler, we just gotta find a place closer to our jobs. I'm driving an hour both ways."

He sat up. Zach leaned in to hear his words. 

"And we know that throws a huge wrench into your budget but we gotta keep these jobs. They're good. Hey! Don't be mad, man. Mark's already got a few apartments and Josh needs a roommate." 

"Wait, your housemates are moving out?" 

Tyler nodded. 

"Man, that's bullshit! They can't just do that. I'm sorry, Ty." 

Tyler hunched in on himself. He should be comforting Zach. Zach was his little brother, not the other way around! Everyone was right, he was stupid. 

"You don't have an older brother."

Zach furrowd his brow. A few seconds later recognition donned on his face. 

"You're the best big brother. You're my best friend Tyler. I, uh, I don't say it a lot because we like to tease each other, but you're always here. I know I can call you no matter what time it is, and it's like we're kids again, and you're two feet away in our bedroom." 

"I miss that." 

"Me too." 

Zach's eyes brightened. 

"Here."

|-/ 

"'s like slowtown." 

Zach grinned. 

"Yeah, I guess it is." 

The two were in the Joseph kitchen, pouring cinnamon toast crunch into big bowls. 

Tyler was in a dry hoodie and underwear, too tired to wear pants. It didn't really matter, he was at his house. He wasn't focused very well, but Zach's presence was comforting, and he didn't mind his brother's repeated questions. Zach remembered when they still shared a room and Tyler would ask the same questions over and over before bed. He never knew why, but decided not to question it. It never bothered him. 

They brought their bowls with them to the couch. Nothing was heard for a while except the brothers' chewing.

Zach was finishing his milk when Tyler heard footsteps, it sounded like their Mother's. 

"Zach, why are you up?" She squinted. "Tyler? What's wrong baby?" 

Zach covered for him. Tyler's mom already worried enough. 

"Uh yeah! I just called him, I was missing him after so long without seeing him." 

Their mom narrowed her eyes. 

"You called Tyler, who's a twenty minute drive away, to eat cereal with you in the dark?" 

"Yeah! It's sentimental?" Zach sounded desparate, even to Tyler. 

"Okay." She knew not to press the situation. "Hey Ty." 

Tyler grunted in response, pushing his cereal around. 

Kelly got a hunch for what had happened. She was just glad Tyler made it safely. A quick glance reassured her. He seemed okay, no bruises on the skin that wasn't covered by his hoodie. 

She sat down beside her oldest. Zach took that as his cue to put the bowls in the sink. Tyler surprised her, putting his head on her shoulder. 

"It's so hard." 

"I know, baby, I know. You're doing a lot, you know? I'm so proud." 

Tyler knew she didn't know. But she said that to comfort him. He sunk into her touch. She was twisting his hair around, idly. 

"You have work tomorrow?"

Tyler nodded. 

"How about you take the day off and go see Josh or something?"

Taking time off work was for when he was sick. He knew people broke the rules, but that was a little far for him. Kelly predicted his inner struggle.

"Mental health days are fine, too. Remember high school mental health days?"

Tyler nodded. 

"Good. I hope you at least cosider it." Zach was back on the couch. Kelly looked at him. 

"You're going fishing tomorrow, early, right? You need to go to sleep." She slowed her hand in Tyler's hair. "How about you both go up?"

"Okay. Goodnight Mom."

"Goodnight Zach, night Tyler."

"Night Mom, I love you."

"I love you too."

|-/ 

Tyler pressed the 'call' button and took a deep breath. 

"Hello?"

Tyler picked up his notebook to read from. 

"Hello, Mr. Grafton, it's Tyler Joseph. I won't be able to come into work today because I have the flu. Thank you for understanding." 

A dreadful pause on the line.

"Okay, Tyler, I hope you feel better soon."

"Goodbye."

Phew. Tyler didn't have a stomach ache, in fact his stomach was growling. He could smell breakfast from downstairs. One thing he missed about living at home, breakfast certainly wasn't granola bars or cold pizza. 

He let his fingers run along the walls in the hallway, buzzing. He was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	7. December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horrible producers and Josh's touch.

TV sets were interesting, to say the least. It was different than a music video set because it was live. There were no second chances, and Josh was painfully aware of that. Of course, Tyler had been on a local news station with Nick and Chris a year ago. But now they had a manager looking at them, scrutinizing their every move, listening to their every note, sending their comments back to the label. 

Josh was usually the rock of the band, Tyler's backbone and constant through the storms. Their roles switched in situations like this. Tyler was an entertainer, when the lights hit him he put on a character, a mask of confidence and showmanship. But he deflated as soon as he stepped backstage. 

Tyler was glad all of his acting he's done to look 'normal' had paid off somewhat. His shirt was red and worn, a relic of his high school years. It was comfortable, one less thing to distract him. His hands were hurting. He shook them. 

"For this week's local artist spotlight, we have a band that is popular in the underground music scene. They're best known for their unique music and energetic performace, please welcome Twenty One Pilots."

That was their cue. 

Tyler's hums and jitters turned into determination and excitement. He could do this. Josh's kick drum was vibrating through his veins, the lyrics to guns for hands coming to him without a hitch. He pretended the cameramen were fans.

Everything went okay. Tyler forgot the lyrics to a verse of ode to sleep, and Josh had to improv a few beats here and there. Tyler was glad to get out of the TV studio (he was still proud, sometimes he couldn't even watch the news because of his sensory problems) and into the fresh air. Josh was right behind him, followed by Mark, who was fiddling with the camera strap around his neck. 

Josh felt like jumping and yelling. It went okay! They did great! It wasn't the best performance they'd ever had, but if people were really interested they could check them out and see just how good they were. Josh's life had direction, finally. And finally, he had a love, and he wasn't talking about the music. In a split second of overexcitement, Josh jumped on his boyfriend, yelling 'we did it!' in the process. 

Tyler let out a strangled yell, and Josh realized what he did. The good part in Josh told him not to be annoyed, but some base part of his brain got defensive. Why was everything about appeasing Tyler all the time? Just once, he'd like his boyfriend to jump on him, kiss him and hold him like normal partners do. 

Josh's face burned. He loved Tyler. Tyler always made an effort to show his affections, through songs and words and 'this made me think of you' texts. But Josh was a very physical person. He longed for much more touch than Tyler could give him. His boyfriend was disabled, and because he was Tyler, with parents that never let him rest and shame and a million other effects of being so... much, he rarely showed his discomfort until he reached the breaking point. 

Josh snapped back to the present. Tyler was freaking out. His gut reaction was to get rid of whatever was causing his discomfort. He shoved Josh. 

And then he immediately apologised. 

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry." He started to shake his head, a sign of agitation. "I hurt you Josh, I'm sorry." 

"Hey, hey, it's okay, I forgot to think, I was just so excited. No one's in trouble."

Tyler may have been listening, Josh couldn't tell. The car ride home was silent. 

|-/

Josh's guilt grew. His boyfriend was so beautiful, so soft, his love, and he couldn't show Tyler how special he was. 

Tyler moved back in with his parents, since Josh's apartment had one bedroom and they weren't ready for that yet. Also, Tyler wiggled quite a lot in bed before he finally got tired and Josh experienced that enough on tour. He was too smitten to be annoyed though. 

On his way to the Joseph's, Josh became annoyed. Something was off. He was annoyed at Tyler, to be honest, which made him angry at himself. He knows he should just talk to Tyler about the disconnect he'd been feeling between them since the TV night. 

But what would Tyler, feasibly, be able to do about it? Nothing. Josh bringing something up that Tyler can't change would just make Tyler feel less than. And that was something Josh never ever wanted Tyler to feel. 

Josh knocked on the door. 

"Tyler's in his room." 

"Hello to you too Mrs. Joseph," said Josh playfully.

Kelly continued wiping the couters off, harshly, faster than seemed necessary. 

"Oh sorry dear, it's just been a hard day. Nothing's seeming to work for Tyler today. Maybe you'll cheer him up. He's frustrated though, just a heads up." 

"Okay." 

Maybe today wasn't a good idea. He missed Tyler, but if they were both in pissy moods it wouldn't be a good time. It would be weird for him to back out now, however, so he knocked on Tyler's bedroom door. 

"Yeah?" It sounded snappy, even for Tyler's usual shortness. 

"It's me. Can I come in?" 

"Mhm."

Josh assumed that was a yes, and opened the door. Tyler wasn't there. There was a humming noise from under the bed. 

"Tyler?" 

Tyler was laying on his back, looking at the underside of his bed, three inches away from his face. Josh tried to mask his disappointment. Tyler being under the bed meant a bad day, sensory or otherwise. 

"Do you want to push back our date?"

Tyler shook his head.

"I need a few minutes, sorry." 

Josh just nodded, laying down beside Tyler, about two feet away. And he waited. 

Tyler looked over. He felt horrible. He was angry, so angry, almost as angry as he was in high school. The dead skin on his lips was picked off, leaving sores that stung when he licked his lips. If he could have his way he'd just lay here until things passed. He licked his lips harshly. 

It started this morning. He got a phone call from the producer they were going to be working with in LA. It came as a surprise, and he didn't exactly have his words yet. He ended up rambling about the song he was working on for twenty minutes, and he could hear the condecension in John Booker's voice. That name made him seethe with anger now. 

John went so far as to ask if he could talk to Josh, instead, because the label had 'prepared him with information about your particular difficulties, and wanted to talk about the more technical side of things.' Tyler was the technical side of things. He was also the writer, producer, mixer, and masterer of two albums. 

Josh, of course, needed to have his own imput on the album. But Tyler was the main creator. Everything burst.

"Until you start speaking to me like I'm the actual fucking creator of this album, we won't be working with you. I've written two albums without you, and I can make a third."

He hung up, and suddenly realized what just happened. Fuled By Ramen was going to be pissed. They needed a producer, they needed a studio. A real studio, not Tyler's macbook and two microphones. 

And here he was, under the bed, like a child. And now he couldn't even go to a fucking restraunt like a normal boyfriend and make Josh happy. These past few weeks were really, really difficult. 

"Uh, it's okay if you need to do something tomorrow." 

Josh's words didn't match his expression. 

Tyler rolled over so he could sit up. 

"No, let's go. Where do you want to eat?" 

Josh didn't press it. 

"Tony's?"

"Sure."

|-/

"Maybe you should just be the lead singer, since everyone seems to think I'm a fucking retard." 

Josh could count on one hand the amount of times he'd heard Tyler curse. 

"No one thinks that Tyler."

Tyler rolled his eyes. 

"I have to work three times as hard as everyone else. It took me four months to get my fingers to cooperate enough to play the piano. But I sucked it up. 'If I can know everything about this, it won't matter if I used to be behind.' Well apparently it does." 

Tyler laid on Josh's bed and started breathing deeply. He wanted to sink into the bed and never move. He didn't want to die.

He didn't need to die, he needed a good rest. The uncomfortable energy in his body left through his fingertips and seeped into the bedsheets below him. 

"I'm so tired." His voice lost all it's anger, Josh could barely hear him. 

"I don't know what to say, but I know you're good at what you do." 

"Yeah," Tyler chewed his lip. "I'm sorry I'm bringing you down. Even the label was like 'Oh, you're autistic?' like it was marketable. I know it's marketable. But I don't want to be 'that autistic singer' Josh. I want people to like our music because they like it." 

Tyler stuck his hand into his left sock, seeking comfort. 

"You can't even have sex with me because-" 

Tyler got an idea. It worked when he was feeling horrible.

"Let's try something?"

"Uh." Tyler's mood had completely changed. 

"Lay on top of me." 

Josh hesitated. "Are you sure?" 

"Yeah."

Josh climbed onto the bed and stuck his knees in the gap between Tyler's legs. He was cautious, pressing his chest on Tyler's tummy. Tyler brought his hands to Josh's hair, idly playing with it. He relaxed. 

Josh looked up at him. He traced firm circles into his bicep. 

"It's gonna be okay Ty." 

In that very moment, things were more than okay. Josh's whole body was pressed against Tyler. He didn't smell like much, maybe laundry detergent. He closed his eyes and sunk into the warmth he'd been missing. It also seemed more bearable for Tyler, who was humming against him. 

A few blissful minutes passed before Josh felt Tyler's mouth against his head. 

"I love you Josh." 

|-/

"What the hell? What was that? You need to speak to Tyler. Booker knows Vessel. He knows Twenty One Pilots. He knows music."

"Ye-" Josh couldn't get a word in. 

Cooperate. FBR's already given you more money than any other nobody they've ever discovered. You can't tour without a damn album. Tyler needs to get his act together and you need to be in LA by the fifth. Tyler told me his disablilty wouldn't get in the way. I hope he's right. 

"He is." 

Their manager stopped his tirade. 

"I know he's brilliant with music, Josh. You are too. But you have to have the charm to go with it in LA. You better thank your lucky stars John is still interested in working with you." 

"Thank you, thanks man. So much."

"I know Tyler's stubborn, but he has to work with John, or no album, at least not at the quality level you need to get ahead." 

"I'll tell him what you said. Bye Will." 

Josh pinched the bridge of his nose. Tyler had basically all but burned a picture of the infamous producer in effigy. He wouldn't like this. 

"What's happenin' Joshie?" 

Mark's mouth was full of pizza, Josh avoided wincing at the sound.

"We're still working with Booker."

"Fuck Booker." 

Mark swallowed. 

"Hey Tyler! You're working with Booker!" 

Josh just sighed. He forgot that Mark had a big, very blunt mouth that was usually open unless you explicitly told him not to say something. 

"Fuck Booker! And you should be joking." 

"That's what I said, but your lover over here says it's true." 

"Shut up Mark." 

Vessel was going to be difficult, and not because of the music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	8. December/Epilouge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They make it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic wasn't really going anywhere, so I decided to end it before it overstayed its welcome. The ending's abrupt, but I still hope you enjoy!

They were in LA. It felt like Josh, to be honest. Laid back and breezy, but most people here wanted to make it big. Tyler planned the trip so he'd have two days to adjust to being in Los Angleles before they got into the studio. 

But somehow Booker heard they were in town. So now they were going to 'drop by for about an hour'. 

Tyler was already feeing nauseous from all the sounds and smells in the airport. Traveling was like shoving him off to sea with a raft. He didn't know how to get his bearings.

But the backpack on his back was a welcome and familiar pressure. His hoodie was the same. Josh was too. He still wasn't coping well. 

"Josh." 

He looked over. 

"Need to leave."

"Just a few more minutes 'til we reach the car."

The car. No. The pain was getting to him. There were so many people that were going to watch him lose control. He had to hang on. 

But the instinctual part of his brain, the part that told him to eat and sleep and fight, it was saying one thing. Escape. 

He ran. Tyler was fast and he saw the doors to the parking lot. There was a bench on the side of the covered walkway outside. He sat down. It burned. At that moment he was so uncomfortable he couldn't think. 

Instead there was pain and dread and fear, all rolled into one indistinguishable buzz. 

There were lots of shoes on the walkway. Atrached to feet and bodies and scents and footsteps punding into his head. Some hair came out. He needed to stop. His hums turned to whines. Where was Josh? He needed to hide from the stares. 

So he ran again. 

The back of the building was a lot quieter. He pulled his bag into his lap. There were headphones inside. They made his sunglass temples dig into his head, but the relief was instantaneous. 

The external relief, anyway. The damage had already been done. He shook his head hasrshly, but it wasn't as satisfying without music. 

Josh would come and gently speak to him, he'd sit with him for as long as it took to put back the peices. Tyler would make a terrible impression on his producer. But Tyler doesn't quit. He carries on. 

|-/

"And here's a tip. Dial it back."

"Dial what back?" Tyler huffed.

"Everything." John got closer to Tyler. The air between their faces became humid as John breathed his air. "It's cheesy and you look like you're on drugs." 

Tyler couldn't process anything else John was saying. He closed into himself. Down, down down. There was peace somewhere inside of him; he just had to find it. Every time this happened, everytime the fragile workings of his sense of self got torn, he was knocked over like a stack of blocks. The loud clacking blocks that Zach used to play with. The sound is worse than the destruction. He's been a pile of multicolored wooden blocks many times. He puts himself back together, brings the blocks out of orbit and down, down, down to the ground. But the outside world always steals him away again. John is making his tower fall. He's going to have to wait to put it together. He can't. He can't make music this way. 

"No thank you." It's small and flat.

This alerts Josh, who'd been sitting on the couch, not really listening. He walks to Tyler. His heart hurts at the sight. 

"We're gonna take fifteen minutes, okay?" 

"Uh, not really, we need to finish the backing vocals today to be on schedule." 

"I wasn't asking."

Josh walks toward the patio door. Tyler follows. 

There's a little round table with some chairs; Josh takes a seat and Tyler looks at it a while, deciding if he could sit right now. He can't tell if he's exhausted or buzzing. He sits. 

Josh hasn't been truly frustrated with their music since he joined the band. But now everything's thrown off. A producer has the power to make or break an album. Vessel isn't supposed to be smooth and minimalistic. It's supposed to be disjointed and manic, heartfelt and clear. Tyler and josh are fireworks, not smooth streams or wheat feilds. And each sound was put there deliberately by Tyler, Josh remembers the countless files emailed to him with a 'what needs to be changed?'. 

He looks over at his bandmate. He knows the most important thing Tyler needs right now is privacy. He gives it to him by opening his phone, idly scrolling. 

Tyler isn't a quitter. He isn't a quitter, but he needs a time out. His body rebels against the painful control of his brain and shifts into his natural posture, one he learned to be ashamed of. He's never still. Who gives a shit anymore? There is joy somewhere in his movements, but right now he's too tired to find it. His body twitches. 

He's going to work with this man whether he likes it or not. They don't need to be friends. 

"Ty?" It's soft. Josh doesn't want to startle him, but it's been thirty minutes. 

Tyler hums. 

"You good to keep working today? I need to do my drum takes for guns for hands, you could take a break." 

That could give Tyler some much needed rest, and give John more fuel to patronize him with. It's a double-edged sword. Josh seems to know what Tyler's thinking, because he asks

"Do you need me to talk to him? With two fists?"

Tyler looks at him, confused. And then he sees Josh's grin. He's trying to make Tyler feel better. 

"You wouldn't hurt a grizzly bear if it was charging right at you." 

"Yes I would!" Josh is indignant. "With these two fists." 

"A gun's more effective."

|-/

"We made it." Tyler's pants came off smoothly. 

"We really did." Josh wasn't so lucky. One of his shoes was caught. 

Tyler leaned in to whisper. 

"I love you. I love all of you." 

"Ditto." 

The response earned one of Tyler's rare smiles. The ones where his eyes squinted and shined. 

"Josh, you have such a way with words, I'm so impressed." 

Josh knew now wouldn't be a good time to ask for hugs. So instead he held out his hand, and they took the stage together.

Tyler stepped up to the mic. 

"Anyone, no matter their setbacks, from anywhere, can do anything." Tyler paused. Josh knew what was coming. He leaned in to murmur. 

"Be encouraging, not accurate." Tyler nodded. 

"Thank you." 

The applause was deafening. But all Josh could notice was Tyler. His chapped lips and bolo tie that he insisted on wearing for some reason. 

They made it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
